


house of memories

by AimiTachibanana



Series: comfort mini-fest 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, References to Depression, Swotty Potter's Wolfstar Comfort Mini-fest 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AimiTachibanana/pseuds/AimiTachibanana
Summary: Sirius learns that being alone in your abusive parents' house doesn't always have to be lonely.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: comfort mini-fest 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943653
Kudos: 55





	house of memories

**Author's Note:**

> written for [swottypotter's](https://swottypotter.tumblr.com/post/629234611440025600/hello-friends-this-is-a-bit-last-minute-but-i-am) comfort mini-fest on tumblr!  
> 9/26 prompt: solitude

The walls of Grimmauld Place have always been morose, confining— _suffocating_ . Company mostly presents itself through distant echoes of creaking wood, light footsteps with low grumbling from his ever spiteful house-elf, and the intermittent screams of his mother’s unyielding wrath, never missing a chance to remind Sirius being the shame of her flesh, the bane of her existence as well as his crushing disgrace to the _Noble and Most Ancient house of Black_.

After a decade of escaping and incensed defiance against the control and horrors of the house full of excruciation and scars, one would expect the vindictive words to have already faded into white noise— yet he found it hopelessly inescapable. A rust-covered tack under an aged shoe. It was a nightmare that he simply grew to expect, now ingrained as a byproduct of his years of neglect and failure.

It was enough to drive anyone mad, and in Sirius’ case, _madder_. This new form of “freedom” he has, he knew was nothing more than an illusion.

At first it was a challenging conflict of figuring out what he wanted instead, to possibly occupy himself whilst being restricted in these walls. But all Sirius wanted was company— nay _craved_ it, and yet it wouldn’t take long for him to feel overwhelmed by it. What, with the Order freely entering and roaming around in random hours, and then just suddenly the heaps of people cramped inside whenever meetings would be held…

Sirius would then lock himself away from everyone, trapping himself in an even smaller confinement; in deafening silence and painful solitude.

Just like what he was doing right now. Sirius opened the window as wide as it can go, perhaps to rid of the stench from the bounded wild animal inhabiting the room, but to also allow himself to feel the fantasy of being outside. Sirius gently brushed his hands on the hippogriff’s grey feathers, briefly feeling it nuzzle back before he lay on the floor beside it, watching the window as dark clouds slowly drift by. It was cold, but incomparable to the discomfort and guilt he felt with being there rather than a good host downstairs.

Left with nothing but his raging thoughts, it wasn’t hard not to get lost into a spiral. It starts with questioning his decision to become an escaped fugitive, and then the ones that _made_ him an escaped fugitive in the first place, and the rest thus far like ending up in this misery disguised as a charity, a form of protection for him.

He’s lied to himself more than he’s cared to count already. _For the Order… For the war._ So he could play his part just like last time, as a soldier— albeit a constricted one this time. Still, a purpose. Better than ‘the betrayer’ or ‘the downfall of his friends (and almost for the entire Wizarding World as well)’, which its irony continues to humour him in ways no more than sardonically.

And then Sirius tells himself it’s _for Harry… For James and Lily_. He was still desperately clinging on to the hope of being able to redeem his complete absence from his godson’s life up until then. Indeed, this was his utmost priority.

The voices of conviction in his head come in two forms. The first is weak, but one that Sirius is convinced most wizards have whether they admit it or not: the voice of Albus Dumbledore. 

It used to be someone else’s, but since… well, _since,_ it has been rather difficult to recall what used to be normal or determine what’s real and what’s fabricated among Sirius’ memories.

He doesn’t even bother to remember the exact words but he was sure it was a roundabout and condescendingly polite way of telling him to think of others more if he planned to risk his exposure, regardless of whatever noble or altruistic reason he had. Though as much as it truly was for fresh air or to relieve his itch for some thrill, Sirius would argue that his drive to do it for others was a stronger motive. Once this thought would threaten to override his logic, the next voice of reason would then step in. A much stronger and assertive one at that…

The voice of Remus Lupin. It’s annoying as it’s impossible to completely hate, knowing this voice is more familiar with how to get through to him than anyone, including and especially himself.

He felt the hippogriff jerk in attention beside him, but he paid no attention. It was probably just from the bats it longingly observed through the window. Sirius wished he could be easily distracted by trivial happenings like those too.

“Surprised you haven’t attempted to climb through the window yet.”

Sirius had to do a double take on whether the voice was just in his head or the actual tangible owner had already entered the room he “forgot” to lock for this person specifically.

Sure enough, Remus Lupin, all warm colours and soft smiles approached from the door. An arm extended towards the hippogriff as Sirius heard him murmur, “All right there, Buckbeak?”

 _Right. The hippogriff had a name_ … 

Sirius slightly frowned in realisation at the apparent oversight and watched Remus feed _Buckbeak_ some raw meat from a bowl the brunet gently set down before stopping next to Sirius.

“Can I join you?”

Sirius was already shifting and pulling Remus down beside him. “You’re more welcome than anyone.” He surprised himself with how raspy his voice sounded, the result of it being unused for hours.

Gently, they slotted into a comfortable position. Backs resting on Buckbeak, facing the widely opened window, Sirius’ arm still linked around Remus’.

For a moment Sirius forgot what he was thinking about before Remus entered as he strained his brain to remember, before recalling that he was precisely thinking about Remus subconsciously becoming his own voice of reason.

“Geez Padfoot, you must be freezing in here.”

The discordant thought of wanting company and being alone entered his mind once again. As Sirius heaved a sigh, a puff of thick air visibly wisped through his nostrils, proving Remus’ point. He tilted his head to face Remus and saw only a look of concern. Remus’ arms were tightly crossed against his chest as if fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. 

It might be wishful thinking but Sirius held onto that thought and felt warmness spread across his chest, almost enough to withstand the cool breeze from the outside he longed to be at.

Instead of speaking, he leaned in and rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and shuddered at the warmness of his neck, almost burning Sirius’ cold face. He reached out and took Remus’ arm to wrap it around his shoulder.

At Remus’ small chuckle, Sirius closed his eyes and took in the pleasant, tinkling sound in the otherwise quiet hour.

Perhaps in another life, he would’ve felt content with this. He would’ve fallen asleep enveloped in Remus’ scent and warmth, but not in this life. Not as his present self.

A decade of separation is too difficult to disregard and they’d be fools to pretend everything was alright. He was initially frightened at the prospect of how different they would be now that they have each other back but not exactly well acquainted with each other as they were anymore. 

Time didn’t matter to Sirius before, it stopped being significant when he was simply waiting for his death rotting in that hellhole. But now, Sirius realised that time had indeed slowly mended their relationship— as friends and as lovers.

He could still recall Remus’ look of absolute hurt and guilt when Sirius flinched away from his touch on their first night in Grimmauld Place. Then there was his look of sheer panic that subsided into grief when he heard Sirius screaming in his sleep and said he thought he was back in Azkaban. Back then Remus won’t even talk to him. He won’t talk about what Sirius missed out or even his own feelings, and Sirius felt as estranged as he treated Remus.

There are still traces of these harsh reminders of their rocky journey to relearning each other. It was evident especially when they were alone together. Remus still doesn’t initiate contact with Sirius, but he simply found himself satisfied by the knowledge of Remus always, _always_ willing to reciprocate Sirius’ affections allowing him to set the pace for them.

They should’ve known better than to doubt themselves of their effect on each other. Ever since that reunion at the Shack, Sirius could so clearly remember the way all his nerves and hesitations were instantly washed away by the warm and snug embrace of Remus’ arms around him. At that moment it almost felt like all of Sirius’ worries were forgotten and he wished nothing else but to feel like that again.

Just then, Sirius heard Remus speak but he was too lost in his own thoughts to properly digest the words so he just says, “Hmm?”

Remus sighed wistfully. “I could practically hear you thinking, I just wished I could understand.”

He wanted to say ‘ _me too’_ , but knew he didn't need to overcomplicate things, at least just this once. Utterly messy and dark his thoughts were, he finally came to a satisfying conclusion. His ongoing conflict of wanting to be away from the claustrophobia of people downstairs but dreading the solitude… Sirius then understood. Being with Remus made him forget all the jarring and buzzing in his head. Being with Remus meant being alone but not feeling lonely.

“Thank you, Remus.” Sirius looked up to gaze at Remus' moonlit features.

Remus cocked his head to the side but smiled softly. “Whatever for?”

Sirius paused, thinking of a way to properly convey his overwhelming gratitude. “For being you.” He sat up to level with Remus’ eyes, their faces now adjacent.

Sirius watched the smile on Remus’ lips grow. “I’m glad at least someone is grateful for it.”

Before he could think about it further, Sirius closed the gap and pressed a tentative kiss on Remus’ lips. He leaned back just to say, “I don’t have energy for your bullshit right now.”

Remus huffed out a laugh but placed a gentle hand on Sirius’ jaw. “I was scared to overstep. I thought you wanted to be left alone.”

“I do.”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“But I recently found that being alone with you is better.” Sirius was met with a warm and tight hug. He snuggled to the crook of Remus’ neck like he belonged there.

Maybe he didn’t need to keep finding reasons to carry through this war. He already has his Moony and his loving godson who he was heartily anticipating to see this Christmas holiday. That was already enough for Sirius.

**Author's Note:**

> if you like, you can also read [new beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697448) which can be a prequel for this one, as they both fit in the same au :))
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aimitachibanana)


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